People Soup

The Racoon Mafia Part II

Well, I did it again.

I visited my mother.

Twice.

I was flying to visit a friend on his yacht in the Caribbean and stopped off in Ottawa on the way there and the way back.

Note: yes, a yacht does sound luxurious and if you’re a visitor it can be – downside: pusser showers. However, it’s not the life for me since it combines the “joy” of puttering around the house fixing a never-ending list of problems with the chance that your house will sink to the bottom of the ocean.

I have very little to report on the Caribbean besides the rather slow approach to life down there.

I’m still waiting for a drink I ordered last Thursday.

It also seemed surprisingly cold. Or perhaps it only appeared that way because my mother likes to set the temperature of her house to just a “tidge” below the boiling point of water. Or perhaps it’s the boiling point of air. It’s hard to be certain when you’re gasping for air.

Taking a shower is an adventure as well. The handle that controls the temperature is stuck on high so taking a shower feels like someone is spraying you with hot soup. Thin, flavorless soup. I’m not sure if I should lodge a complaint with housekeeping or the chef.

Did her desire to stay “warm” have an impact on me?

I’m not certain, but I may be the first person to visit the Caribbean wishing he’d brought a sweater.

Some of you may point out that I could easily have eliminated the shower problem by fixing the faucet. I would argue that it depends on your definition of “easy.” I’m not what you’d call “handy” as this conversation reveals:

Me: It’s broken, fetch my tools!

My Wife: You mean your credit card and phone?

My mother and I did go to Home Depot, a place I go to once every decade whether I need to or not – I would argue I never need to. It says something about my home repair capabilities when my mother goes to the hardware store more often than I do.

Not that I’m completely useless. As you may recall, my primary job is to provide my mother with IT support. To ensure I have time for that we’ve streamlined my visit. When I arrive, my mother hands me three sheets of paper:

1. People she knows who are sick.

2. People she knows who are no longer sick – because they’ve died.

3. Coupons I can use to buy candy during my visit.

This allows us to spend more time discussing important topics like the news. She still subscribes to the local paper so the news she gets is a little dated:

Once “current” events are out of the way we turn our attention to the myriad IT problems that have accumulated since my last visit. This isn’t the first time we’ve done this, so we have the process down to a science.

1. She tells me the problem.

2. I spend 30 minutes trying to figure out what the hell she’s talking about.

3. I provide her with options. For example, “you can do A or B.”

4. Mom selects “C.”

5. I pull out my hair.

I said it was a science, not a pleasure cruise.

Note to mom: Fixing your PC is not a journey that will bring us closer together. At best it’s a destination, a place we want to reach as soon as possible. At worst? One of us will murder the other and I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that I have 50 lbs. on you.

Pretend that we’re defusing a bomb. Except the bomb is my temper.

Some IT support highlights:

• Closing the roughly 87 tabs my mom left open on her iPad before I can do anything. Fortunately, only a few of these were cat videos. Unfortunately, I was required to watch all of them before closing the tab.

• I was unable to fix the Alexa problem. As a result, Alexa will continue to provide weather updates at 7:05 AM everyday regardless of whether anyone is around or not.

Perhaps the greatest adventure we had though was attempting to return something she ordered online. This was made more difficult because my mom does not like to take her cell phone with her.

Mom: It’s for emergencies.

Me: Like what, falling in the shower?

When we arrived at what we hoped was the return center we did not have a return label and could not print one off because her cell phone was safely at home in the bathroom ready for any emergency. As a result, our attempt to return the package amounted to my mom holding out a bag out to startled store employee and saying, “The internet sent this, please return it.”

All our “IT fun” led to this exchange:

Mom: I want to go back to 1967 when life was simple.

Me: Mom, I was born in 1968.

Mom: What’s your point?

For those of you who read my last “visit report,” you’ll be happy to know – is “happy” the right word? – that my mother continues to leave food on the front porch “for the cat” which I suspect is being eaten by either the 40lb “stray” that comes to her window every night or by raccoons.

Which reminds me, I didn’t hear anything about the raccoons during this visit. I wonder where they are?

Oh my God, the call is coming from inside the house!

Thank you for reading Schrodinger’s Chicken

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